Musical Harry Potter
by DogsAreAwsome
Summary: Characters of Harry Potter solve their problems in song!
1. Popular

Popular

It was going to be Ron Weasley's first year at Hogwarts in a week, and although he didn't openly show it, he was a little frightened. What if he didn't do well in his classes? What if Mum sent him a howler and embarrassed him in front of the whole school? What if no one liked him? And as if an angel from heaven, Fred came prancing into Ron's orange room. "What's wrong little brother?" he bent down to Ron's level, where he sat on the ground, flipping through with his hand-me-down text book.

At Ron's silence he continued, "I'm guessing you're worried about school. " Taking Ron's shrug as a 'yes' he patted his brother's shoulder, "Well, you've come to the right brother, Ron."

"No I didn't, you came to me."

"Because I _sensed _you calling me."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Just leave." He pointed to the door.

"I will if you tell me why you keep moping like that."

Ron sighed, had he been that oblivious? "What if I can't make any friends at Hogwarts? You made easily with Lee Jordan."

Fred smiled with a glint in his eye, "Ronie- because you're my little brother, I've decided to  
make you my new project."

Ron, slightly worried now said, "You really don't have to do that..."

Fred grinned even wider, "I know… That's what makes me so nice!"

"Uh, Fred, I'm feeling suddenly happy now-"Too late, Fred, on a roll now, started to sing.

"Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I (And let's face it- who isn't less fortunate than I?) My tender heart tends to start to bleed. " He patted his chest and faked tears. "And when someone needs a makeover, I simply have to take over- I know, I know exactly what they need…"

Ron looked horrified.

"And even in your case." Fred tapped the tip of Ron's nose. "Though it's the toughest case I've yet to face, don't worry - I'm determined to succeed. Follow my lead!

"And _yes_ indeed, _you._ Will. Be…Popular! You're gonna be popular!" Fred jumped up on Ron's bed and spun in a circle like an airplane.

"I'll teach you not to hurl when you talk to a girl,"

Ron inched towards the door.

"Little ways to flirt and flounce." Fred jumped off the bed and shut the open door grinning evilly, "I'll show you what robes to wear, how to fix your hair- everything that really counts..

"To be popular!" he grabbed a wet brush out of nowhere and raked it through Ron's hair, "I'll help you be popular!"

"You'll hang with the right cohorts," he took a picture out of his pocket and waggled it in Ron's face. I looked like a moving picture of the Quidditch team. "You'll be good at sports. Know the slang you've got to know! So let's start.  
'Cause you've got an awfully long way to go!"

Ron glanced towards the open window; maybe if he grabbed his broomstick, he could escape unharmed…

"Don't be offended by my frank analysis- think of it as personality dialysis. Now that I've chosen to become a pal, a  
brother and adviser- there's nobody wiser." Fred garbed some tape Ron kept on the windowsill (and, much to Ron's dismay, closed it) stuck the tape on Ron's and ripped it off. Ron stifled a shriek.

"Not when it comes to popular - I know about popular." He ruffled Ron's hair and skipped around looking for… something.

"And with an assist from me; to be who you'll be- instead of dreary who you were… Well, _are_. There's nothing that can stop you, "He finally found what he was looking for; hair gel. "From becoming popu-ler." He frowned, "…lar.

"La la la la, " As he once again spun around like an airplane, Ron silently wondered if he was drunk. Or perhaps on high- maybe he was PMSing What if he started smelling quill ink? I hear that kills brain cells. If Fred had any. "We're gonna make you pop-u-lar."

"When I see depressing creatures, with unprepossessing features, I remind them on their own behalf. To. Think. Of. Celebrated heads of state," He pretended to take a picture of Ron with an air camera. "Or 'specially great communicators- did they have brains or knowledge?" He stroked a fake goatee.

"Don't make me laugh!" And Fred, well, laughed. "They were popular! Please- It's all about popular!" He squirted gel in his hands and rubbed it together. "It's not about aptitude; it's the way you're viewed," He gave a whimpering Ron a Mohawk.

"So it's very shrewd to be very, very popular like me!" he sang. "…And though you protest your disinterest  
I know clandestinely. "

Ron finally got the brains to stand up and ran around the room, his brother at his heels.

"You're gonna grin and bear it- your new found popularity. La la la la." Something seemed to have dawned on Fred as he stopped chasing Ron. "You'll be popular - just not quite as popular as MEEEEEEEE!" He laughed and went back to trying to get Ron to wear the robes that were in style.

Molly Weasley was magicing cucumbers to cut themselves when she heard some little girl screaming outside- oh wait, that wasn't Ginny, it was Ron…. Running from Fred and yelling something about how happy and excited he was to go to Hogwarts. Well as long as her son was _happy…_

**Thank you, Sam! For helping me post this.**


	2. Bet on it

Bet on it

It was Neville Longbottom's second year and he was having trouble choosing which classes to attend. He scowled at the letter from his great aunt suggesting he drop Arithmancy. Of course the letters had been driving him barmy from Easter; when he'd gotten his second lengthily one, though he hadn't openly displayed frustration yet. Without warning he jumped out of his seat and roared loudly (it sounded more like a cat, but it got everyone's attention, so whatever). He put one foot on his chair, pointed his wand at his throat, magnified his voice and sang (more liked screamed), "Everybody's always talking at me. Everybody's trying to get in my head, wanna listen to my own heart talking-need to count on myself instead." The whole hall was silent, even the teachers. This was good; he had everyone in his grasp. The only thing that would make it better was if he had music. Ah well, gotta live with watcha got.

"Did you ever; lose yourself to get what you want? Did you ever; get on a ride, then wanna get off? Did you ever; push away the ones you should've held close?" Neville flashbacked to when he declined his half cousin's suggestion to try out for the Hogwarts Orchestra, he must've really hurt Jasmine's feelings. "Did you ever let go? Did you ever not know?

"I'm not gonna stop, that's who I am I'll give it all I got, that is my plan. Will I find what I lost? You know you can. Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it. Bet on me!"

People where laughing, coughing and choking. They must have thought his song was ace then. "I wanna make it right, that is the way." He paced around near the Ravenclaws' table. "To turn my life around, today is the day. Am I the type of guy who means what I say? Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it.

"How will I know if there's a path worth taking? Should I question every move I make? With all I've lost, my heart is breaking. I don't wanna make the same mistakes." It actuality would've been a nice song, you know, the lyrics were pretty fitting. If he _could_ sing- Naw, he sounded like a dying goat. And that's being nice.

"Did you ever; doubt your dream will ever come true? Did you ever; Blame the world and never blame you?" A Slytherin tried to throw a goblet, shouting him to belt up, but was far off. Neville took it as a sign to go on. Who cared if Slytherins hated his singing? It was their normal behavior anyway.

"I will never try to live a lie again- I don't wanna win this game if I can't play it my way." He took a deep breath and swung his head, trying to flip his hair- it didn't work.

"I'm not gonna stop, that's who I am. I'll give it all I got, that is my plan. Will I find what I lost? You know you can. Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it.

"I wanna make it right, that is the way. To turn my life around, today is the day. Am I the type of guy who means what I say? Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it."

"Hold up. Give me room to think. Bring it on down. Gotta work on my swing, gotta do my own thing. Hold up." He stopped and gazed down at a Hufflepuff's goblet, at his reflection. Ernie Macmillan gave him a disturbed look. "It's no good at all to see yourself- and not recognize your face. Out on my own, it's such a scary place. The answers are all inside of me. All I gotta do is believe…"

He straightened up and went back to sort of rapping. "I'm not gonna stop- Not gonna stop 'til I get my shot. That's who I am, that is my plan. Will I end up on top?

"You can bet on it, bet on it. Bet on it, bet on it, you can bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it  
I wanna make it right, that is the way. To turn my life around, today is the day. Am I the type of guy who means what I say? Bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on it." And for the grand finally he jumped on the staff table (His foot was in Professor Trelawney's tart- though if she was a real seer, she would've seen that coming),"You can bet on me!"

Neville opened his eyes in his 180 degree turn to come nose to nose Professor Mcgonagall, who didn't look impressed. "Longbottom, this way please." The Professor turned on her heel and headed out of the mess hall. Oh, maybe she'd hook him up with the Weird Sisters! Working with them would sound cool. Or maybe she'd show him his own band! He could be lead singer; they'd be a blinding success! Neville eagerly jumped off the table, grabbed a few grapes from Professor Sprout's plate, yelled a "Cheers then!" to his beloved fans and scurried off after the Transfusion Professor.


End file.
